


Till Your Body Gets Weak

by wingsofbadass



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Dancing, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Jean's unquenchable thirst, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:49:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofbadass/pseuds/wingsofbadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way Marco moves his hips makes his mouth go dry. Jean swallows when Marco shifts a thigh between his, slotting them closer together, and his arms rise above his head as he lets his head tip back, eyes closed, lost in the music. Holy shit, he looks so damn hot like this. Jean lets out a low groan that gets lost in the noise of the club and grinds against Marco, his fingers digging into soft flesh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till Your Body Gets Weak

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when the idea to write a short dance drabble goes out of control. 
> 
> Title from "Grind With Me" by Pretty Ricky.
> 
> Many thanks to Laurel and Poppy for their help with the editing!

Jean's heart is hammering against his ribs, thundering along to the bass filling his ears, reverberating in his bones. Colorful lights dance across Marco's face, making him look dreamlike to Jean, almost unreal in this amplified world of flashes and rhythm. The dancing crowd is loud around them as they let the music sway them with each other, against each other, smiles cutting through the bright flickers. A couple of shots buzz pleasantly through Jean's blood. Steamy, heavy air presses against heated skin, drops of sweat slipping down flushed faces and necks, and Jean's gaze lingers on Marco's collarbones for a moment, where his damp skin is exposed by his V-neck.

Marco bites his bottom lip around that amazing smirk of his when Jean hooks his finger through a belt loop to pull him even closer, his hipbone bumping against Jean's. The desire to lower his face and lick up the side of Marco's neck and taste the salt of his skin burns in his gut, but for now he settles on sliding his fingers over his boyfriend's hip, letting the tips of his fingers slip under the gray shirt and feel his warm skin.

The way Marco moves his hips makes his mouth go dry. Jean swallows when Marco shifts a thigh between his, slotting them closer together, and his arms rise above his head as he lets his head tip back, eyes closed, lost in the music. Holy shit, he looks so damn hot like this. Jean lets out a low groan that gets lost in the noise of the club and grinds against Marco, his fingers digging into soft flesh.

This time, Marco lets his knowing grin light up his face without holding back and he flicks his eyes open again to fix Jean with this searing look that has Jean's heart fluttering. The song changes into one with a slow, heavy beat and Jean watches Marco's face light up with recognition and his movements slowing down to match the new pace. Marco's whole body is moving, rocking, quaking with the bass and he loops his arms around Jean's neck, getting closer.

They're moving together, their hips rolling against each other, and god, it's so filthy and good, with their fingers slipping over sweaty skin and their breaths fanning out so heavy. Unable to help himself, Jean lets his head drop to Marco's shoulder to mouth wetly up his neck. The shiver that runs through him at the touch is even more delicious than the taste of his skin.

“Shit, you're so hot,” he pants against Marco's ear and the answer is a chuckle that he feels more against his stomach than hears. Jean closes his eyes when Marco's fingers slide up into his hair but he doesn't get to enjoy the feeling for long, before he is being pulled back gently. Shit. Marco's eyes are hazy as they flicker down to Jean's lips, while they're shifting with each beat.

The heat of Marco's mouth surpasses the swelter on the dance floor and Jean moans a little as he lets himself fall into the kiss. Marco is still gripping his hair and pressing against him breathlessly, making the wet slide of their lips and tongues so intense, so intimate, that Jean can't get enough.

When Jean lets his palms wander further up the curve of Marco's back, thoughtlessly making his shirt ride up with them, trying to press them still closer, closer, Marco pants an exquisite noise into Jean's mouth that travels all the way down to his dick and curls hot in his groin. He's sure he's about to lose his mind but then Marco delivers his finishing blow. Bending his knees a little, he rolls his hips down, his whole body winding against him and forcing Jean down with him.

With a gasp, Jean breaks away from Marco's lips and rests his forehead against his, their hot breaths still mingling, and tries to will himself not to get hard from the way they're grinding against each other. His thighs are beginning to tremble, though, from the strain of their position and the way Marco is turning him on – holy shit – and that grin tells him that Marco knows.

The DJ has mercy on him and the song transitions into a faster one. Marco pulls him upright with a laugh and Jean growls a playful “fuck you” before pressing his lips against Marco's softly. In response, Marco waggles his eyebrows twice, before he lets the music take him over again, his body floating on the beat as he moves with a careless grace that Jean is incapable of. He matches Marco's energy anyway because he's drunk on it, drunk on him, drunk on this night.

Apparently, Marco is done giving him a break because he trails one hand down his chest where it rests over his heart and shoots Jean this _look._ A look that makes Jean think of another kind of dance, the way they grind against each other between the sheets, the way their sweat slides down their winding bodies, the way Marco's hips roll as he fucks him so deep, so good. Oh god.

And then Marco is turning around in his arms and pressing back against him and _oh_. Jean splays his palms over his boyfriend's stomach, enjoying the way his fluid movements feel under his hands, and holds Marco close. For a couple of moments, Jean manages to dance with Marco somewhat decently, following the movement of his hips with his own as they sway from side to side, before the song's chorus has Marco pick up the pace, his ass rubbing against Jean's dick through his pants.

Again, Jean presses his face against Marco's skin, moaning against his wet neck and giving up on all pretenses. Marco's hands slide over his, lacing their fingers together against his stomach, as Jean ruts shamelessly against that phenomenal ass, shoving his half-hard cock between his cheeks. He can feel Marco's breath stutter and Jean grins as he nips softly at his ear lobe, letting his breath out hotly against him. In return, he gets that shiver he loves.

Now he's squeezing Marco, pulling his boyfriend back against himself hungrily as that ass moves against him so sexy, so damn dirty. Jean can barely think straight with the friction against his sensitive dick and the way Marco is tilting his head to the side, offering Jean better access to his neck. And he has to restrain himself from sucking on that beautiful freckled canvas and marking him up right here in the middle of the dance floor, but god, is he addicted to that taste and the flutter of Marco's pulse under his hungry lips.

“You're killing me,” Jean moans as they grind against each other, their bodies so close he can feel his Marco's sweat dampen the back of his shirt and stick to Jean's front. He yearns for the feel of skin on skin, to run his hands over all over Marco, to map out the familiar rises and falls of his body. A deep hum rises up Marco's throat and vibrates against Jean's mouth.

Fuck, he wishes he could hear that beautiful sound, wishes he could swallow it up and devour the way Marco whines and shakes for him. Jean is rock solid by now, his panting mouth open against hot skin as he rubs up against his boyfriend's still moving butt. Oh god, he wants those layers of clothing between them _gone_ , wants to push against him, into him, wants to watch that ass bounce off his hips with the force of his thrusts.

Unable to keep his hands still against Marco's abs, he trails one hand down to squeeze Marco's cock through his pants. He's just as hard as Jean is. He thinks he hears Marco gasp his name and Jean strokes his palm over his hardness slowly; relishes the way Marco's trembling fingers tighten around his. They're surrounded by people and yet Marco is melting against him, hips no longer moving in time with the music as they both stop pretending what they're doing resembles dancing in any way. Little ruts against his hand have Jean grinning and sighing tiny kisses over Marco's jaw.

A particularly mean squeeze of Jean's hand has Marco slapping a hand to his own mouth to muffle god only knows what kind of sound. A moment later he's turned to face Jean again, throwing his arms around his neck and claiming his mouth with a blazing kiss. There is no hiding the way they both moan as their cocks brush against each other.

“Oh god, I want you,” Jean groans into Marco's ear when they break away for air. “Let's go home, _please_.”

When Marco replies, his voice is so shaky and broken, goddamn. “Too far, I need you right now.”

And before Jean can react, Marco snatches his hand and begins pulling him out of the crowd. He stumbles along, brain hazy and sluggish, until he sees where he's being led. A loud cackle escapes his lips as Marco pushes open the door reading “Gents” and looks back at him with a grin. They crash into an empty stall and fall against the door, kissing frantically.

The sound of the music is muffled and he can finally hear the pleased sounds Marco hums into their kisses. Jean reaches behind himself and slides the door's latch shut, before he raises his hands to slip them into Marco's hair, twisting the damp strands between his fingers, while his boyfriend licks and sucks up his neck. Marco's hips are working against his again, stuttered rutting that shakes the door behind them slightly.

“Oh, shit, Marco,” Jean breathes shakily at the feeling of Marco's hand sliding down over his dick to caress him roughly. “Please tell me we're not fucking in this nasty bathroom stall.” The answer is a hot exhale of laughter ghosting over his wet skin.

“I wanna suck you off,” Marco murmurs against his throat and Jean is overly aware of the bob of his Adam's apple under those soft lips and the twitch of his cock. They meet each other again for more wet, open-mouthed kisses colored with little moans and desperate whines at the friction between them. He feels Marco reach down to undo the fly on his own pants, sighing in relief at the sensation.

Marco presses two final pecks to Jean's lips before he drops to his knees on the white tiles of the bathroom and starts working open his belt. With a shivery sigh, Jean drags his hands down his face, unable to believe this is actually happening. Having conquered the belt buckle, Marco rips open the button and zipper on his jeans, then moves to pull the tight pants down to his thighs. Jean helpfully angles his hips to help and the eager little sound Marco makes when his hard dick bounces out of his briefs sends something in Jean's stomach aflutter.

The smile Marco sends his way when Jean looks down is far too adorable for this situation. He shouldn't look so sweet when he's on his knees in front of Jean in a fucking public bathroom, eyeing up his dick and licking his lips like he can't wait to taste it.

Marco's hand is soft around his cock, giving him a couple of loose strokes, and he watches Jean, gaze so gentle, before he leans forward and licks a hot stripe up the underside, making Jean's hips twitch, his breath hitch. And then he's wrapping those incredible lips around him and Jean's mind fizzles out from the perfect wet heat, his eyes fluttering shut. The drag of Marco's lips and tongue as he takes him deeper is so _good_ , oh god, that Jean's head falls back helplessly against the door with a thump and he can't even feel the sting.

His heavy breathing seems too loud in this small space, but Jean can't bring himself to care much, not when Marco is sucking on him like that, the amazing feeling accompanied by lewd slurping noises. Jean's right hand finds its way into the mop of dark hair, careful not to tug too hard, just holding on in the hopes of not floating away.

When Marco hums, the vibration sends hot sparks up Jean's body and he moans a little too loudly.

“Hey, keep it down in there, ya nasties!” a voice bellows from outside of their stall, making Jean jump and his eyes snap open. Some thumping makes the door shake against his back.

“ _You_ keep it down!”, he bites back eloquently, earning some laughter from at least two guys outside of the stall. Marco pulls off of his dick with a quiet chuckle and Jean looks back down at him, his face burning. “Don't you dare laugh at me!” he hisses.

“Sorry, _babe_ ,” Marco retorts sweetly, not looking sorry in the least. Considering Marco only ever calls him dumb pet names to wind him up, this is probably the most insincere apology he's ever received. Jean sticks his tongue out at him childishly and Marco returns the gesture. Then his hand closes around Jean's cock once more, now pumping in a tighter grip, before he adds his mouth and starts bobbing his head up and down, taking him as deep as he can. This time, Jean does cover his mouth with his free hand, muffling his increasingly desperate noises as he leans his head back.

Oh _god_ , the way Marco's tongue flicks against that one sensitive spot just under the head of his cock ... Marco is licking and sucking him so fucking good that he has trouble keeping from rutting into his wonderful mouth. Noticing Jean's twitching, Marco brings a hand up to his hips, stabilizing him against the door, before pulling off to breathe.

Soft kisses are peppered over the wet head of Jean's dick and then Marco is softly mouthing down his length until he reaches his balls. Jean gasps as Marco nuzzles him and starts carefully nibbling at the soft skin, pulling it between his lips, while his hand goes to stroke him.

By now, Jean's thighs are shaking badly, and he slips his hand from Marco's hair to brace it against the wall in an effort to keep himself upright. Just when he thinks he might be getting himself under control, though, Marco swallows down his dick again and takes him deep, so deep his nose presses against his skin. Jean whines his boyfriend's name into his palm as he's being worked mercilessly, the heat and the licks of Marco's tongue setting him on fire like no song ever could.

Looking back down threatens to make him fall apart. Jean's chest is heaving with his labored breaths as he watches his dick disappear into that mouth over and over again, watches the blush that has spread over Marco's freckled skin. The way his pretty lips look stretched around his cock is so damn obscene and gorgeous, he wishes he could drown in the memory of this moment forever. When he notices Marco's shoulder move and he realizes he is jacking himself off, an intense heat flares up deep in his gut and he can feel his orgasm curling, building, driving him nearly out of his mind.

“A-ah, Marco,” he groans, unable to keep his hips from twitching forward into that mouth, unable to control the way he's unraveling, and Marco moans around his length, squeezing his thigh in encouragement. When dark brown eyes flick open and meet Jean's, watching the way he's shaking for him, he fucking loses it.

Curling over Marco's head and whimpering broken moans into his hand, Jean comes hard down Marco's throat, his head swimming and blank with bliss, all stuttering hips and trembling knees. Marco swallows it all down eagerly and then slowly pulls off of Jean's softening cock with a self-satisfied smile.

“Oh, fuck,” is all Jean can breathe, as he leans back against the door, trying to calm his breathing and the frantic drumming of his heart. He watches Marco lean back on his heels, his hand working his own flushed dick with a tight grip, and moaning softly into the heavy air between them. His heart soaring, Jean extends a hand to him. “Come up here.”

Marco takes his hand and lets himself be pulled up and kissed breathlessly by Jean, deep happy noises spilling from his lips. Gently, Jean pries Marco's fingers off of himself and whispers against the corner of his mouth, “Let me.”

Turning Marco around and settling him against his chest, Jean winds his arms around his waist, one hand slipping under his sticky shirt and resting on his tight stomach, while the other wraps around his arousal. Jean hums as Marco's head falls back against his shoulder, and starts stroking, fast and loose, brushing kisses along his exposed neck.

He can feel the muscles in Marco's stomach twitch under his palm; he's already getting close. Apparently unsure what to do with his hands, Marco reaches back and slips the fingers of one into Jean's hair, the other clasping Jean's against his stomach. And then he sighs his name so beautifully, so brokenly that Jean's heart hammers in his chest for a whole different reason now. He presses his lips to Marco's again, melding them together softly as he keeps rubbing him and teasing the wet slit with his thumb, so lost in the way Marco's body shakes in his arms.

Marco's kisses start to get sloppy as he nears his climax, his hips rocking in time with Jean's strokes and his whimpers coming so helplessly against Jean's lips. And then Marco's grip on his hair is tightening and his whole body tenses, just for a second, before he shudders apart, coming with thick spurts over Jean's hand and moaning into his mouth. Jean keeps stroking slowly through his orgasm, as Marco goes limp in his embrace, weakly kissing back, until the tremors have stopped.

They kiss lazily, with gentle lips and warm hums, their hearts beating in sync in this moment of intimate closeness, before untangling from each other and cleaning up between giggles and more soft kisses.

And if some guy at the sinks gives them a slow clap as they emerge from the stall holding hands, it's not like they have to tell anyone that they're actually kind of proud.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated :)


End file.
